Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 199
Contempt
Freesia struggled silently, her resistance fading, as Izar’s lips pressed against her fair neck.
The soft fabric covering her chest slipped away easily as the ribbons were tugged loose. The loosened undergarments, adjusted to accommodate her pregnancy, also gave way under Izar’s touch.
Not content with kissing her lips and neck, his tongue pressed firmly against her stiffened n****e, circling and teasing her areola. Each movement caused her back to rub against the chair beneath her.
In broad daylight, just moments before welcoming guests, the thought of this man teasing her b*****s like this was overwhelming.
“Ahn… ah… ahh!”
More than anything, Freesia was frustrated with herself—her body, which trembled and pressed her knees together helplessly even as she hated him. Despite her resentment, heat surged through her at his gentle touch, the warmth of his mouth, and the pressure of his fingers.
“No, my dress… if it gets wet…”
Tears blurred her vision as the heat from his caresses built too quickly toward a climax. At this rate, she might need to change her dress entirely.
But Izar, knowing which buttons to push, slid beneath her gown and pushed aside her dampening undergarments. His tongue slid against her moist folds, delving deeper, and Freesia grabbed his dark hair, gasping.
“No… ah, no!”
“Why not?”
Izar paused, lifting his mouth from her swollen c******s to look up at her. It had been so long since he had seen Freesia flushed like this that his own composure was unraveling.
“If you don’t want to stain your dress and don’t want to keep the guests waiting too long…”
“Hnn… ngh…”
“Then you’ll just have to rely on me.”
He dipped his head again, licking from the base of her folds upward, savoring the taste of her arousal. She shuddered with each teasing motion of his tongue as it brushed against the opening of her core, drawing beads of wetness.
The shallow strokes of his tongue quickly turned more desperate, his hunger breaking through. He licked and teased her tender bud, consuming her essence like a greedy beast.
“Ah… mm, ahhh…!”
Her trembling, breathy cries of pleasure echoed above him, a sound so intoxicating that he felt his restraint shatter entirely. He only wanted to push her further, to make her lose herself completely.
“Izar… ah, ahhh!”
He needed this, needed her to affirm that she was still his, even in this way.
It didn’t take long before Freesia, held tightly by her thighs, reached her climax with a gasp, her body quivering as the peak of her pleasure left her breathless.
“Ah… haah…”
Her release wet his lips and face, and though her intense high slowly ebbed, her body still trembled faintly from the lingering sensations.
Amid the haze, Freesia realized something. She had felt nauseous all morning, likely from her pregnancy, yet when Izar was with her, the baby seemed calm.
* * *
The tea party was delayed by one whole hour.
Yet, as Izar had predicted, not a single guest dared complain when the imperial descendant finally appeared.
“Thank you all for waiting.”
“Not at all, Your Highness!”
The ladies stood to greet Freesia, carefully observing her as they did.
Though her expression was calm, her flushed face, the hickeys blooming along her neck despite her makeup, and the subtle glow about her spoke volumes.
‘They must be incredibly close.’
Ignoring the more suggestive implications, the guests enthusiastically praised the beauty of the tea party.
“Your first tea party was already impressive. I heard you had little assistance, too.”
“Indeed, we were truly remiss in appreciating such natural beauty and taste at the time…”
Meanwhile, everyone deliberately avoided looking at Electra, seated awkwardly in a corner of the greenhouse.
The elegantly dressed elder woman was trembling with rage.
‘That woman…! She dares accept my plea for mercy and then does this?’
The seat she had been assigned was a clear humiliation, a public acknowledgment of an unwanted guest. Even women she had known her entire life were now ignoring her.
But none of that stung as deeply as the most shocking sight of all: Merope.
Once Electra’s most loyal handmaid and someone she had hoped would be executed swiftly, Merope now stood close to Freesia, seemingly inseparable.
‘When… when did that happen?’
Even more confounding was how tenderly Freesia treated Merope, as though she were a trusted companion.
As if sensing Electra’s bewilderment, Freesia suddenly turned her gaze to her, smiling sweetly.
“Elder Madam, you look displeased. Is something the matter?”
“Y-Your Highness, why… why would you bring a criminal to this gathering?”
Electra stammered, trying to suppress her confusion and outrage.
But Merope, unflinching, fired back immediately.
“A criminal? What nonsense are you speaking?”
“Y-You…!”
“To see the real criminal brazenly flapping her mouth before Her Highness, where are the guards?!”
Electra shot to her feet, horrified that Merope was openly accusing her in such a setting.
‘What is she thinking? She’ll only doom herself!’
Surely, Izar wouldn’t spare Merope after this outburst. What could she possibly gain?
But then, Electra looked at Freesia, still seated elegantly and sipping tea.
‘She’s already made a deal with that woman…’
Indeed, Freesia had personally visited Merope in her prison cell.
〈 It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Head Maid Merope? 〉
〈 Yes…! Y-Your Highness… 〉
Merope had trembled from head to toe, a far cry from the proud head maid she once was.
